


A Well-Needed Break

by Karv



Category: Warhammer - All Media Types, Warhammer 40.000
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Implied Sexual Content, Warm and Fuzzy Feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-12
Updated: 2020-11-12
Packaged: 2021-03-09 18:34:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,916
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27520852
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Karv/pseuds/Karv
Summary: Roland devises a plan to take Elize's mind off of work for a moment, and thinks back on how their relationship started.
Relationships: Elize DeLehova/Roland Keysworn
Kudos: 2





	A Well-Needed Break

The Cadian 888th had only been aboard the Dictator-class cruiser  _ Storm of Wrath _ for a little over 6 months before they had started to butt heads with the Imperial Navy personnel. Brawls broke out frequently, personal items were stolen, and it seemed like every other day that someone, Guard or Navy, ‘disappeared’ into the bowels of the massive ship. When they weren’t at each other’s throats however, the two groups often participated in the trading of items throughout the cruiser, forming a sort of underground black market within the winding corridors. They had created a sort of bartering system, trading items such as Lho sticks and the oh-so coveted Old-Foiz and Amasec, both being regimental favourites. Some had even taken to an arms trade, the occasional guardsman proudly brandishing a fat-nosed and high-calibre naval pistol. Naturally, this had all gone on to make Commissar-Captain Elize DeLehova a very angry woman. 

Elize sat behind her large wooden desk in her office, resting her chin a gloved fist as she boredly sifted through what could only be described as a mountain of paperwork. Her adjutant, a man named Roland Keysworn that she seconded from the Navy for her own personal use, had given her a small tip about some things he’d heard around the ship about a Navy-Militarum trade meeting, and it turned out to be much larger than Roland had said. What she had expected was a few guardsmen to be meekly forking over their day’s pay for a crate of cheap amasec courtesy of the Navy. What she had not expected, however, was to find nearly an entire company’s worth of weaponry being traded off for crate loads of Obscura, a highly-prohibited and addictive chemical. It had been an obscenely large bust, something to celebrate and a career-defining moment for some of the lesser naval Commissars, but for Elize it was the beginning of a humongous headache. Being the acting head of the Prefectus between the Navy and Militarum aboard this ship, all the paperwork fell onto her, and here she was having to explain where her men suddenly found a couple spare trolleys of military-grade equipment. The answer was simple, and she almost had to commend her men for their stroke of genius, even as she wrote up punishment papers for those involved. In their last battle, they fought alongside a fellow regiment from the dead world of Krieg and, although the entirety of the Death Korps were wiped out, the wide majority of their equipment was salvageable, and was thusly brought onboard the  _ Storm of Wrath _ for storage. However, this meant they had almost an entire regimental level of unused wargear that was officially assigned to a dead regiment in the eyes of the Administratum, thus leaving it in limbo. She chuckled to herself. Genius, really. 

However, now as she sat there in her office, bags under her deep violet eyes, filing countless reports on every single item that her regiment had come to acquire for cataloging sake, she found herself cursing the regiment rather than praising them. Luckily, after a large Prefectus action such as this, the delinquents in the regiment typically held back from any more shenanigans out of fear that the Commissariat is still on the hunt, so this gave Elize a couple days of peace and quiet...which she would be enjoying, if it weren’t for all the Throne-damned paperwork! This has been her third day in a row of constant work, stopping only for fitful bursts of sleep and the food prepared for her by Roland, as well as her morning shower. Her wrist had cramped up and she had to swap to her other hand, thankful for her ambidextrousness as her data-quill swiped along the lines. Signed, Commissar-Captain Elize DeLehova. Signed, Commissar-Captain Elize DeLehova. Signed, Commissar-Captain Elize DeLehova…

Roland shyly peeked his head through the doorframe of Elize’s office to check up on the Commissar, his ocular augmetics whirring softly as they zoomed in on the older woman dutifully working away. Elize DeLehova was a beautiful woman, simply put, but that beauty was fading away from her work-related stress. Her greatcoat rested on a rack next to her deck alongside her peaked cap, leaving her in her white dress shirt and black pants. She had undone the first three buttons of her shirt in a move that could only be described as ‘not meeting the regimental standard’ revealing a few scant inches of black lace that Roland was helpless to take note of, and her raven-black hair was let down from its usual business ponytail and was uncharacteristically messy, especially for a woman who was such a clean freak and stickler for details. Roland had seen her reprimand men for having a button out of place, yet here she was in her disheveled glory, silent aside from the occasional annoyed groan and the steady scratch of her data-quill. It had been three days of this, and Roland was starting to get worried. Elize already terrified him more than anything, but to see her so close to teetering off the edge was worrisome at best. It didn’t help that the two of them were sleeping together either. He snuck his head back behind the door frame and backed up so that his entrance seemed more natural, striding into the room. Elize didn’t even move her head up to acknowledge him, so focused on her work. Roland even went as far as to quietly clear his throat to attempt to notify her of his existence and when that didn’t work, he gave up and simply spoke. “U-Uhm, hey, uhh, Elize? Do you want a-anything to eat? It’s getting around that time, and you haven’t had any food since yesterday…” He trailed off, getting interrupted by a small ‘mmh’ from the Commissar as she continued her work. Giving a small nod, Roland took off to the mess hall, pressing his palm against the ID-locked door to exit Elize’s office. 

The walk to the mess hall was long and uneventful. It normally would’ve been a long walk had Roland gone from the barracks, but he was lucky in that the Commissar-Captain’s quarters were much closer. The perks of being an officer, he thought bemusedly. The slender voidsman creeped along the mighty halls of the  _ Storm of Wrath _ , doing his best to avoid the teasing remarks and comments from the other occupants, Navy and Militarum alike. Ever since Elize had stolen him away from his cushy job as a nobody deckhand, all of his peers had started to view him different. Instead of a treasured companion, a brother in a firefight, they viewed him as an outsider and a spy, always wondering if the Ordo Prefectus had sent their pet out to sniff out any disturbances. ‘I mean, the fact that they’re right probably doesn’t help’, Roland thought bleakly, letting out a dry sigh. The corridors of the ship were dark and dank, the millenia old metal creaking and wheezing while the equally ancient lumens flickered in and out. It had become home to Roland, being that he was quite literally born and raised on the mighty ship, so he felt a bit of nostalgia as he perused the halls on his way towards the mess hall. Eventually he found his goal, a simple enough auditorium-sized room with rows of long and bland-looking tables for eating, plenty of room for people to eat. It was surprisingly small however, nowhere near large enough to seat either the staff of the ship or the regiment that was now on-board as well, but that was because this was actually one of two mess halls, specifically being catered towards the officer castes of the Guard and Navy alike. The other mess hall, truly gargantuan in comparison, was located a couple decks lower and catered specifically to anybody below the ranks of the Commissioned Officers. Because of the higher status of the officer cafeteria’s clientele, they also served obscenely higher quality ingredients and dishes. Whereas the lower decks were served grey slabs of nutrient paste and the occasional bit of corpse starch, perhaps a soup or stew if they were lucky, the officers were served decadent plates of grox steak and potatoes with a few select green vegetables for supper, alongside simple eggs and bacon for breakfast. 

By the time Roland had arrived in the officer’s mess it had already become rather late in the artificial schedule imposed across the ship, and the eatery had been clear of other people aside from the cooks themselves, some of which acknowledged him with a familiar wave. This had become routine for the last three days, with Elize nearly always eating late. Stepping over to the counter and looking up at the men behind the counter with his whirring eye augmetics, giving a friendly albeit somewhat shy smile. “Oh, uh, h-hey Fordham, you know what I’m here for.” He stammered quietly, somewhat averting his eyes as the larger man turned to face him. Roland was an awkward man, that was painfully evident, but he still enjoyed being friendly when he could, despite when his nature made that somewhat difficult. Fordham was a real-people person, he had to be when his job was him serving snobby military officials, and he had taken somewhat of a liking to the scrawny former deckhand. A dedicated chef, he had a noticeable paunch underneath the apron he wore, and his bald head glistened with sweat from a day of hard work. 

“Hey little buddy, had a feeling you’d be coming around soonish so I got the guys to get started on a meal. That Commissar o’ yours likes to eat late, eh? Likes keeping us all up and ready, I see.” He gave a hearty chuckle, turning away from the adjutant to check on the food. “Be done in a minute or two, I think.” Roland gave a small nod, idly leaning against the counter. He thought back to Elize, and he felt the colour rush to his cheeks as Fordham said ‘that Commissar of  _ yours _ ’, silently worrying that perhaps he’d found out about their pseudo-relationship. He brushed it off though, trying to distance his mind from it. That being said, he still had no idea how to categorize the two of them. They weren’t, like, a.couple right? Elize didn’t love him as far as he knew, and he...well, he didn’t know how he felt about the half-Cadian and half-Dieprian temptress. She teased and toyed with him one moment and pulled him into her bed the next, only to never address what they’d just done before returning to business as usual. It was almost maddening. No, it  _ was _ maddening, and it was finally starting to eat away at him. What did Elize even think of him? Was he just a stress toy, something meant to be abused whenever she was in a mood to do so? Roland found himself so lost in his self-thought that he didn’t notice the plate of grox steak and vegetables presented before him until Fordham lightly smacked the counter, snapping him out of it. “Oi, there you go. Anything else I can get you or can I go to bed now?” Fordham spoke with an almost barely audible pleading hidden behind his usual boisterous bravado. Again, Roland thought back to Elize and how tired she was, how desperate she was for a moment of relaxation and rest. He gave a small nod, clearing his throat. 

“Uh, yeah, u-uhm, do you guys have any tea? Or-or anything hot that isn’t just recaff?” Roland spoke with a gentle curiosity, looking up at Fordham with those whirling eyes. Fordham rubbed at the back of his head, turning around again to inspect the food stores. 

“Uhhh, yeah, I think we’ve got a crate of old Solian tea in the back somewhere. Captain Augustina used to be a big fan of it I think, the old bitch ordered a shitload of it and then proceeded to stop drinking. I think she did it just to spite me.” He gave a dramatic sigh, paused, and turned around to look at Roland, suddenly very serious. “You breathe a word of that statement to anybody, I’ll put you in a stewpot.” He glared at Roland, and silence fell between them for a moment before Fordham laughed, reaching over and playfully slapping his shoulder. “Oh, Holy Throne on Terra you should see your face! I’m only joking, I’ll make you a cup.” He chuckled, turning around and going to work. 

Equipped with two mugs of tea and the simple reusable tray of food, Roland said his goodbyes to Fordham and started making his way back towards Elize’s personal cabin. The walk back was even more uneventful than previously, as the artificial night cycle of the ship had been enforced by now and the majority of the inhabitants had gone to sleep. This gave Roland more time to think on Elize, casting his mind back to their first night together.

____________________________________________________________________________

He had been serving as Elize’s adjutant for a few weeks by then, doing simple menial tasks such as preparing breakfast, laundry and scheduling any meetings she may have with the other members of the Prefectus or regimental command. It had been surprisingly easy if he’d been honest with himself, and the simple work suited him. He was hardly a man of brawn, slender and knife-edged as he was, so the casual work was just fine by him. During those days, only a few months ago when he really thought of it, suddenly feeling amused at how he was feeling nostalgic towards something that had really only just happened, he didn’t live in Elize’s room like he did now. He stayed in the naval barracks, such was the life of a simple deckhand, and he had grown quite fond of his little bunk; his little safe haven of bulkhead that he could keep as his own. However, as he showed up late one day to prepare breakfast for the Commissar, she reprimanded him and ordered him to start staying in her quarters with her full-time. Sure, it seemed somewhat strange to him, but who was he to deny a Commissar-Captain? Besides, Elize’s quarters were truly massive in comparison to what he’d been used to. Where Roland had but a single bunk and dresser to his name, Elize had what could only be described as a suite, a large three-roomed space bigger than most, no doubt a benefit of her position. Not wanting to incur the older woman’s wrath, Roland went along with her idea and packed up whatever items he wanted to save and transported them to her suite. It was when he was unpacking that he realized something he hadn’t before; Elize only had a single bed in her suite. Of course, that made total sense, she was the only one who lived there, but...now she wasn’t. He wasn’t adverse to sleeping on the coach, and he was content to do that until he’d heard the melodious and elegantly-accented voice of the Commissar. 

“What do you say about a drink, Roland? A toast to what has been a promising partnership so far?” As she spoke, the younger man noticed multiple things in a fraction of a second. Firstly, the wine cabinet was open. Secondly, Elize had removed her cap and greatcoat, and her elegant saber rested lightly against the great wooden desk which she leaned against. Third, he saw the thin bottle of wine she held clasped in front of her alongside two glasses, held precariously above the fourth thing he noticed...those damnable undone buttons, and the teasing black lace they revealed. Definitely not regimental standard. 

Roland had to fight back the urge to gape at the sight before him, and his mechanical eyes blinked slowly. He was suddenly very thankful for the built-in cameras of his augmetics, saving that picture forever. Was it wrong? Probably, but you don’t always see your buxom political officer presenting a valley of scandalous cleavage. He then became thankful that his eyes made it somewhat difficult to discern exactly where he was looking, as he realized he’d been staring for more than was appropriate. Not that any amount was appropriate, really. 

“Wine? I-I can’t say I’ve much a palette for it, so I m-might not be the best drinking companion, Commissar-Captain D-DeLehova.” He chose to leave out the fact that his extensive physical modification made it nigh impossible for him to feel the effects of the alcohol, his implants destroying any potential toxins before they’d start to take hold. Elize gave a small girlish laugh, the sound reverberating both throughout the room and through Roland’s whole core. This was such a stark departure from what he’d been used to when it came to this woman, he almost started wondering if she’d been replaced. He’d seen this woman shoot men dead for refusing to follow orders, flogged for uniform violations, and all sorts of other disciplinary actions...and yet here she was, her long midnight black hair let down and falling over her shoulders, her uniform discarded with a bottle of wine in her hands as she giggled like a Schola girl. Roland swore he felt whiplash from the ordeal.

“Oh, nonsense! That just means you have to start developing a taste for it, and you do that by drinking! Besides, I do like to have a drink every now and again, so you’ll have to get used to it. Now, come on! I’m not going to ask again, Roland.” Her voice turned more authoritative, but Roland could still see that dastardly smirk pulling at the side of her mouth. 

“V-Very well, Madam Commissar.” He gave a small nod and stepped forward from the couch towards the desk, taking a seat in front of it as she saw the half-Dieprian start pouring the glasses.

“Please, just call me ‘Elize’ when we’re alone like this. I’ve got thousands of men and women to stand on formalities, I don’t need to hear it from you too.” She smiled, finishing the two pours and handing one glass to Roland as she took the other for herself. Elize raised her glass, looking down at Roland. She was noticeably taller than he was, and it only helped Roland feel even more intimidated by her presence. Surely, this was all a test? She’s testing him, to see how he’d react to unexpected circumstances, right? Well, she hasn’t shot him yet, so he must be doing alright. He tentatively grabbed the stemmed wine glass, raising it up to lightly clink against the Commissar’s own glass.

“Alright Elize...what was it you said, ‘a toast to a promising partnership’?” He gave a shy smile, to which she responded in kind, clinking glasses and taking a sip. Roland felt inclined to do the same.

One sip turned to multiple glasses, and those multiple glasses turned to 3 bottles by the time the night was through. Roland, with his implants, was utterly unfazed by the liquor as it went through his system. He did find himself enjoying it quite more than he expected, playing the role of a fantasy sommelier as he tried to pick out any tasting notes. Elize, on the other hand, had certainly felt the effects of the nearly two litres of wine the two drank, her fair cheeks flushed a shade of red that resembled the drink they shared. However, aside from the physical effects, her mental seemed to be reasonably sound. Throughout the hours of their drinking, Elize asked about Roland’s history and Roland did the same, the two confiding in one another for moments on end, simply enjoying each other’s company. However, it came time for them to sleep, and that’s when it started.

“Mmh, well, we should ah, probably get some rest I do believe, Roland.” Elize gave that warm megawatt smile of hers that warmed Roland more than any alcohol fire could, and he gave a simple nod. 

“Yeah, I think that’d be a good idea. I’ll take the couch, you take the bed?” He jested, a friendly expression on his face that was met with one of genuine confusion from his superior officer. Elize raised a curious eyebrow, investigating Roland with her deep violet eyes that she gained from her half-Cadian ancestry, studying his face to try and see if he was joking. He was, obviously, but not in the way that she thought.

“Look Roland, I know the regiment may think of me as a coldhearted bitch, and they may be right, but I’m not so cruel as to force you to sleep on the couch. My bed has plenty of room, don’t worry.” She spoke with a crushing matter-of-factness that belied any ulterior motives or attempts at humour; she was deadpan serious, and for a moment, Roland was left speechless.

A Commissar had just asked him to sleep with her. No, not  _ a _ Commissar,  _ THE _ Commissar. The literal head of the Officio Prefectus aboard this vessel, Elize Katerina Vittori DeLehova, Commissar-Captain, famed hard-ass and feared woman, had just asked  _ him _ , a nobody deckhand, some worthless cast off from an exiled noble house, a person who people felt uncomfortable even BEING AROUND, to sleep in her bed with her. And she did it with an entirely straight face! Surely there was a mistake. She’d had too much to drink, definitely. She didn’t know what she was saying. That’s what alcohol does, right? Roland was lost in this torrent of thoughts for a while before he realized that he had simply neglected to answer the woman in front of him, and he stopped gaping for a moment to speak up. 

“U-Uh, well, I-I, I mean, uhhh…” He stumbled and tripped over his words for a moment before pausing to think. Taking a deep breath, he tried again. “I-I wouldn’t want to overstep my boundaries, M-Madam Commissar.” Roland spoke in his most official tone as possible, hoping Elize wouldn’t be able to smell his fear. He’d heard some predators can do that, and Elize seemed like the single most terrifying animal he’d ever seen. Elize gave a small nod, taking another sip from her wine glass and emptying it, the Commissar looking on in thought for a moment before speaking again. 

“If you want to use your bunk again, or the couch as you suggested, you very well may. I am simply, revealing an option to you, Roland.” She spoke in a slow measure, as if carefully picking her words. Elize gently plucked up the empty wine glasses and bottles and directed them to the wine cabinet and waste bin, respectively.

Roland took a deep breath, and found himself lost in thought again as he was often wont to do. He had two sides of his brain fighting with themselves at the moment. One was telling him to rush forward, like a wild carnodon towards an injured grox, ready to take any opportunity given to him. The other side fought for caution however, leaving him trapped in a struggle with his own head. 

“..I’ll..think about it, Ma’am. I don’t want to do anything rash…” He trailed off, eyes following the devilish creature in front of him. He suddenly wished he still had the wine, so it might be able to somehow dull his senses a little, as impossible as that was.

Suddenly, Elize turned to look at him and lightly strode over to Roland by the desk, gently placing her hand on his and looking down at him with those violet irises.

“Just know, whatever you do is your choice. I don’t want you to do anything that you don’t want to.” Her voice was calm and sincere, and she gently patted him on the shoulder before heading into the bedroom, which was separated from the office by a very nice wooden door that looked out of place on a starship. Roland watched her go in silence, waiting for the door to close before he sat down again and thought. He thought  _ long _ and he thought  _ hard _ . He was still extremely apprehensive about everything, but seeing that warm and caring expression on her face and that genuine tone of reassurance in her voice, he felt nearly every shred of resistance fade away from him. He had gone his entire life an outcast. A pariah. An overlooked stone in a canyon. And yet, here he was, finding someone who seemed to genuinely cared for his well being in the strangest place possible. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes for a moment, holding the air in his lungs for a moment before slowly releasing it. He stood up and gently walked over to the door, pausing as he reached out to the door handle. Was he certain this was a good idea? Absolutely not. He was certain that he wanted this, though. With his mind entirely made up, he gently turned the door knob and stepped inside.

____________________________________________________________________________

The night with Elize had been, intense, to say the least. It had also been one of the best nights of Roland’s life, the sex aside, and he had many fond memories of it. The morning after, Elize very obviously swore him to secrecy, and the two of them kept up with their new relationship for the next few months. Now, Roland found himself in front of Elize’s, his, quarters with food and tea for her as he had set out to do. Stepping inside, he saw the Commissar in his same position as before, looking just as miserable as she had been before he left. Lightly placing the tea mugs down on the table next to the couch, he walked over to the table and placed the grox steak meal in front of her. Elize gave an appreciative nod and went back to work, occasionally taking a forkful of food as she did so. Completely engrossed in her work, she was oblivious to Roland sneaking into the blanket and grabbing a blanket.

Elize had been so focused on her work that she barely registered Roland entering the room until he placed the food tray in front of her. She smiled; he was always so consistent. The Commissar gave a wordless nod of thanks and went back to work, idly picking at the food. She honestly wasn’t that hungry, moreso just wanting to go through the paperwork so she wouldn’t have to do it anymore. Signed, Commissar-Captain DeLehova…

She gave a small yelp of surprise as she felt a blanket wrapped around her shoulders from behind, finally lifting her head from her desk. Locking eyes with a smiling Roland, she raised a curious eyebrow before her eyes fell upon the two mugs in his hand. The adjutant sat down on the opposite side of the desk, placing one mug in front of Elize and keeping one for himself. He gave a sheepish smile towards the older woman, idly scratching at the back of his head. “I thought you might need a bit of a break, so, I went and got you some tea. I think Fordham said it was...Solium?” Elize gave a weary sigh and chuckled, smiling at her adjutant.

“Solian. It’s Augustina’s favourite.” She leaned back into her chair and took a long sip of the brewed beverage, groaning in bliss as the warm liquid relaxed her body. The smile on her face was bright enough to power the entire regiment’s supply of lasguns, it was so radiant. “Thank you, Roland. I really appreciate this. It’s a very well-needed break.” Elize closed her eyes and sighed, and soon the two of them simply relaxed and enjoyed their tea together for a few moments, focusing on the blissful act of doing nothing.

A few minutes of silence passed, Elize relaxing in her chair with her tea resting on the desk whilst Roland sat across from her, holding his cup in his lap. It was then that Roland noticed something that brought a smile to his face. Inspecting the steady rise and fall of her chest (for purely investigative means!), he realized that she’d fallen asleep. He gave a low chuckle, disappearing into the bedroom before returning with a pillow, laying it on the desk and gently guiding the now sleeping Commissar to the pillow, fixing the blanket so that it covered her. Content with his work, he turned to walk away to get some sleep of his own before he felt a weak tugging at the sleeve of his dress uniform, getting his attention. Smiling, he turned back to Elize to find the older woman looking up at him with an expression on her face that Roland had difficulty deciphering, before she quietly spoke up. “Roland?”

“Yes, Elize?” He spoke quietly, not wanting to disturb the sleeping beauty too much.

“I love you.” The Commissar said, barely above a whisper, before snuggling back into her pillow. Roland stopped for a moment, and if he still had the capability to do so, he swore there’d be tears streaming down his cheeks.

“I-I love you too, Elize.” He hardly believed the words leaving his mouth, but they felt right. Not wanting to disturb her anymore, he went to the bedroom and got ready for bed, laying in the large Queen-sized bed for a moment. 

‘Huh. So that’s what that feels like.’ He thought, smiling up towards the dark ceiling, a warm feeling blossoming throughout his chest as he too drifted off to sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading this! Any criticism is always welcome, good or bad. These two come from the same place as Astrid and Vick from my previous story, but they got a lot more context between them than the others so I felt a lot more confident writing for them. I'll probably do up a simple character repository so people can check up on who these people actually are, but that's only if people ask for it. Anyways yeah, thanks for checking this out, I appreciate it.


End file.
